


Built This Town From Dust

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Other, Sentient Jaegers, Tumblr: pacrimholidayswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They go out in a blaze of glory; they really do. But neither of them anticipate waking up on the shores of Nisiki, Alaska, in the exact same spot Gipsy went down the first time—Except it isn't and the world as they know it is completely different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Built This Town From Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpaceguyLewis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceguyLewis/gifts).



> So I figured it was time to give the world another Jaeger/Transformers crossover. Who doesn't love the idea of giant robots meeting each other? 
> 
> **A few things before you read:**
> 
> Striker and Gipsy shrunk some 200ft to match the Transformers. I took the first two numbers of the Jaeger's height cause any smaller and they'd be like Jazz. Striker's 25ft and Gipsy's 26, which means they're taller than most of the Autobots _and_ Decepticons aside from Magnus, Megatron and the Dinobots. 
> 
> **_A lot of Transformer deaths are retconned!_** I like big TF families and after what they've been through, Striker, Gipsy and the retconned TFs deserve it. 
> 
> Interactions between NEST, Autobots, Decepticons, Jaegers and humans are had so hopefully you don't get confused. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, spaceguylewis~

* * *

Water. Gipsy groans heavily as she gently shakes her Conn-Pod, trying to clear her processing units. She freezes as it all rushes back to her; the detonation of Striker, her own core used as a nuclear bomb to rip the Breach to shreds. And yet... She rolls over, expecting to be missing limbs too. 

All four are there and that's when she sees Striker laid out on a beachhead that's far too familiar for her to forget. 

Nisiki is the same as it was the day she lost Yancy, shrouded in heavy grey mist and fog. 

"Striker?" She leans over to touch his chest armor when he groans. 

"Oh m' Conn-Pod..." The thick Aussie accent has parts of Gipsy relaxing that she never thought needed it. 

"Striker! You're alive!" Gipsy hugs him to her core, her frame vibrating in the Jaeger form of a purr. 

"Thought we were gone fer sure," Striker mumbles against her pauldron. "Conn-Pods are empty. They're gone." 

"Raleigh and Mako made it." she admits quietly. "Rals ejected Mako, I ejected him before I blew up too." 

"It feels different. C'n ye check my escape hatch?" Striker asks warily. Gipsy obliges and squeaks. "Gips, that didn't sound good." 

"You've got mechanics an' no pilot rigs. Hold on." Gipsy traces her servos over Striker's Conn-Pod and finds a catch. "Thought so." 

"What?" 

"Chuck ever watch those Transformer cartoons as a kid?" Gipsy asks as she presses on the catch. Part of Striker's helm pulls back to reveal lips, mechanical but unmistakeably _lips_. Gipsy has the unnerving feeling she's the same. 

"Wha-Oh. Are we...?" Striker sounds choked. 

"I think so." Gipsy finds her own catch, releases it and Striker gasps. "What?" 

"We got comp'ny."

* * *

Gipsy turns in the sand, her knee joint protesting the movement with a gritty sound as she releases her chain sword. The sharp —shing— as it forms makes the smaller bots pull back. 

**Striker? Can you stand?** She presses down the link they share and Striker nods briefly. He doesn't draw his weapons as Gipsy's taller than the others by a good six feet. Hell, even Striker's taller than them and he was one of the shorter Jaegers. They've lost height in this new place but they're still strong. 

"Please state your designations." The one with the red chevron that just about reaches Gipsy's core speaks politely but keeps a cautionary servo above his weapon. Smart move; Gipsy would do the same if she was in his place. 

"Gipsy Danger." 

"Striker Eureka." 

"I am Prowl. May I ask where you are from? Optimus sent out the call many years ago." 

Gipsy chews on her lipplates, something Raleigh used to do when he was thinking about something. "Can you give Strike an' I a moment?" 

"Certainly." Prowl relaxes his stance minutely and motions for the others to do the same. 

_What now, Gips? We're Jaegers and I don't know if my anti-Kaiju missiles are a good idea 'round here._

**Plus we're not sure if we carried any Blue with us by accident.** she sighs heavily over the link and Striker hums in agreement. Gipsy shares her plan in images that Striker sends back approval of. 

"Alright, we'll go with you." Gipsy says to Prowl. 

"One more thing before we roll out. How do you feel about humans?" Prowl's keen blue optics pin them in place as he questions them. Gipsy barely refrains from laughing. 

"Quite fond of 'em, mate." Striker snorts as he brushes off the sand still on him. He makes a thoughtful noise, steps back a bit and shakes himself all over like a bulldog. His frame's still dirty but not as bad as before so Gipsy copies him. "So... Where're we goin'?" 

"NEST. One more question—Do you have alt-forms?" 

"Yes." Gipsy beats Striker to the answer, causing the Mark V to hiss at her irritably. **Think of Chuck's favorite car.**

_I can do that in **recharge** , let alone now._ Striker goes first, a sleek silver 1973 Ford Falcon XB GT that makes one of the others whistle in appreciation. Gipsy's next and her form is a deep navy 1967 Impala SS. 

"You did not need to scan anything." Prowl's lipplates pull down as he looks them over thoughtfully. 

Gipsy turns her radio on to answer. "Remembered it all.... a long time ago." 

"I see." Prowl's alt-form is the most eye-catching of the set, honestly—police cars attracted more attention than regular cars. "Autobots, roll out!"

* * *

Gipsy rolls onto the NEST facility amidst much curiosity along with Striker. 

"New Autobots?" 

"Some dirty cars but it looks like they hit a beach. Just need soap and they're some sweet rides." 

"No kidding." 

"... Are those the Supernatural plates?" 

She ignores them for the most part, following Prowl when he splits from the group. It looks like a human shower but robot-sized. So they'll need to get clean, straighten up their story and probably have a mini-meltdown. 

They slip back into thier own frames with ease, washing out thier gritty joints with quiet hums to direct each other. It's when they're squeaky clean that Prowl comes back with polish and a thick cloth. 

"If you feel you need it." 

_Polish? D'we look that vain?_ Striker huffs as he crosses his arms. 

**Better to ask and know than not.** She counters as Striker sighs over thier shared link. 

_Fine, but you're th' one askin.'_

"Do you all use it?" Gipsy asks and Prowl looks taken aback at her question. "The polish. Our kind doesn't need it. We might need some minor repairs but that's nothing unusual." 

"No. Most of the Autobots who come—You said your kind." Prowl is quick. Gipsy lipplates turn upwards in a smile as he realizes they're Jaegers. "You're not Autobots." 

"Good catch. Before you ask, no, not on the side of your enemy either. We'll explain when we meet your leader." Gipsy explains as Prowl watches them warily. 

"I don't trust you." 

"Good. Ye shouldn't cause we said we're fond of humans. I hope you noticed that didn't include anyone else." Striker adds cooly, projecting his more hot-headed pilot. Gipsy swats the back of his Conn-Pod and laughs at his offended expression. 

"Prowl's no slouch, Strike." Gipsy continues as though Striker hadn't threatened Prowl. "He's still growing." 

_Yer takin' his side over mine?_

**Striker.** Her visor flashes with Raleigh's temper and Striker's cooler sides prevail. **We will be living here for the foreseeable future. Don't antagonize our allies.**

 _I... You're right._

**And?**

_I'll apologize._ The last answer is Marshal Pentecost through and through; Gipsy is grateful for him. 

"I apologize. This is unfamiliar territory an' I don't like not knowing where I stand." Striker murmurs and Prowl nods his helm in acceptance. 

"I understand. Come, you'll meet our leader." 

"What's his name?" Gipsy asks even though she has a feeling she knows. 

"Optimus Prime."

* * *

Optimus Prime is not what she expects and yet... She finds she's intrigued by the fact that the Autobot leader has a human repairing his dents. 

"Optimus, we have guests." 

"Cade, are you almost done?" The deep rumbling voice causes both Jaegers to reach out for one another and lace their servos for comfort. Images of Stacker Pentecost flicker through the link from different angles as they patiently wait. 

"Yeah." Cade grunts as he bangs out the last of several dents and pats the truck with a greasy hand. It transforms into an Autobot that's closer to their own height than any of the others have been. "New Autobots?" 

"Not exactly," Prowl shakes his helm. "I'll get Jazz and Rachet." 

"And you are?" 

"Gipsy Danger." She answers as Striker cocks his Conn-Pod to the side. **What?**

_The pheromones suggest that Cade is, umm, involved with Optimus._ Striker murmurs with a minute shrug. _Not sure how it's possible but hey, I commend 'em for trying._

"Striker Eureka." Striker gives a two-digit salute as he hooks his chinplate over Gipsy's pauldron. "You want to ask us anything before th' others get here? Aside from our pro-human stance." 

"May I ask why you are pro-human?" 

"Something we c'n answer when the others get here. Something yer really curious about." Striker dodges the first question and challenges Optimus. 

"What do you think about human and robotic relations?" The amused glint in the blue optics means he knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from them. 

"If ye c'n manage it, good onya. Othawise, I don't really give a shit." Striker shrugs as he watches the others file in. 

"Bumblebee insisted on meeting them." Prowl sighs as more than two come in with him. "Primus knows why." 

"Well?" The small silver Autobot gets the ball rolling. "What are ya if you're not Autobots?" 

"Jaegers," Gipsy answers. "We were built to prevent the downfall of human kind." 

"When?" 

"Depends on what year it is." Striker responds cryptically. 

"2015." The larger, brighter yellow Autobot answers. 

**So... We left our own world entirely by hitting the Breach. Ugh, trans-dimensional portals are the _worst_.** Gipsy whines over the link before sighing. "Have you heard of Precursors?" 

"Nasty beings but why would you know of them?" The larger yellow bot continues. 

"They set up a trans-dimensional, four-plane portal at the bottom of our Pacific Ocean and systematically attacked all the major cities of the Pacific Rim with monsters they built. We called them Kaiju; 200 to 300 foot beasts that were designed to poison humankind and kill them off so that the Precursors could settle there." Gipsy recites from the recent memory of Drifting with the ugly bastards. She shudders briefly, though not enough to dislodge Striker. 

"Humans responded by building their own monsters; us. Jaegers were piloted by two humans connecting to a delicate interface of an AI and each other. What stands in front of you is the remnant of the Program that saved humanity on our plane. When we landed here... I guess we were reborn because parts of us that were vital before are no longer there. We're an amalgamation of our pilot's personalities so if we seem different to you at times, we're channeling different pilots." Striker picks up where Gipsy leaves off. 

"We lost a lot of good Jaegers and pilots fighting the Kaiju. We're sworn to protect all of humankind because it's built into our very cores. So trust me when I say that we're here for him and those like him. We're not siding with anyone else." Gipsy finishes as she motions to Cade. 

"It's a... goood... thing our... war... is done." The smaller golden Autobot uses the radio to talk. "Made an alliance with... Decepticons... last year." 

"Still recovering your losses?" She asks and the golden bot nods carefully. "I can fix that." 

"You _really_ think so?" The clip was a full question but she understood him perfectly. 

"One of my pilots built me up again from my pedes to my helm. Pretty sure I can help you." Gipsy offers, holding out her free servo for the little bot to shake. "Gipsy Danger." 

"Sweet little bumblebee~" He shakes her servo with a little warbling click. 

"Bumblebee, right?" She smiles at the Autobot. Gipsy's pretty sure they'll be good friends in no time at all; he reminds her of Raleigh. 

"Oh YEAH baby!" Bumblebee's door wings rattle and Striker's T-16 Angel wings do the same. "You too?" 

"I'm the fastest Jaeger ever built." Striker grins and the small silver Autobot is suddenly very interested. "These babies 'r for balance." He yawns and then admits defeat for now. "Ye got a place Gips n' I can rest? We've kinda had a long day." 

"Of course. The Med Bay is open to new Autobots but I think we can fit you on the bigger berths. I'm Rachet, CMO of the Autobots and Decepticons. Come with me please." Rachet (the brighter yellow Autobot) murmurs as he scans them. "Rest is just what you need."

* * *

When Gipsy startles awake, she has to orient herself away from the soft material. Her visor onlines in time for her to see Rachet fiddling with Bumblebee's throat. 

"Lend a servo?" Rachet inquires with a flick of his optics at a still passed out Striker. 

"He'll be out for a while yet," she replies with a soft look at Striker. Striker rolls up into a burrito like Chuck use to do as she turns to inspect Bumblebee's throat. Gipsy flicks up a holographic display and hums to herself as she works out how it's supposed to look and the pieces that are mangled or too corroded to do anything about. "Hmm." 

"I know that noise," Striker yawns and stretches to his furthest reach, his wings rattling as his caliper cables stretch to the max before subsiding. "Ye get her what she needs 'n it'll be done by lunch time for humans." 

"I take it one of her pilots was a mechanical genius?" Rachet asks Striker. 

"Both," Gispy absently answers as she looks over the tools. "One was a mechanical and the other a linguist." She selects the tools with care, motioning that Bumblebee should be out for this process. Rachet sedates Bumblebee and Gipsy sinks into the mechanics, ignoring any and all outside influence until someone taps her pauldron. 

She slowly removes her servos to drop into a fight-stance. It's Striker and all of the tension in her frame drops with a creak. 

"Rachet said we have to eat like them now. Nap in the sunlight for thirty minutes with me, hmm?" Striker motions with his helm to outside. "He's done. Anything now's just extra, GD." 

"... Alright."

* * *

It's after the pleasant nap that Gipsy checks up on Bumblebee. He's the first to spot her, his black servo cupping the elbow joint of a black bot with red optics. The pleased warbling chirp sounds much stronger. 

"Thank you." The voice is unfamiliar but clearly Bumblebee's as the black bot does a double-take before leaning down to kiss Bee on the lipplates. "Barricade... Stop that." He chides the bigger bot; Barricade only curls his arm around Bee's waist. 

"I'm glad I was able to help." Gipsy's struck with a vicious stab of homesickness before Striker nudges her gently in support. "Let me know if it acts up, alright?" 

"I will Gipsy." Bee grins as he tugs on Barricade's arm when the much larger bot pauses in front of her. "Barricade?" 

"In a moment sweetspark." Barricade looks her directly in the face with an unreadable expression on his own. "Should you need it, ask for my help." 

"Of course." She recognizes that this is not something the other does often considering the reactions of Rachet and the other red-opticed bot in the Med Bay. Barricade and Bumblebee leave, both of them talking in low tones that are most likely sweet nothings. 

"Barricade's not one to talk much." Rachet supplies in regard to her voiceless question. "Barricade was—is—one of the most vicious fighters in the Decepticon army. He and Bumblebee fought several times and I suppose... something clicked mid-battle with them. They started the truce." Rachet glances at the other Decepticon in the Med Bay. "Hook and I are just glad we don't have to piece bots back together. The best days are when we're not needed." 

"Your Sparkmate would say otherwise, Rachet." Hook snorts as he sorts out what looks like metallic skin graphs along with a delicate looking kit. 

"'Jack's trouble and he knows it. Always experimenting..." Rachet fires back as he waves Striker and Gipsy out of the Med Bay. "The bots'll give you a tour if you ask." 

Gipsy watches her step around the human team members as part of her understands she'll crush them at even this height. 

"New bots sure are quiet." A group of five humans rest around the smaller silver Autobot, sitting with his legs crossed. 

"They're called Jaegers." The small silver corrects the humans. "Human-friendly but stuck here thanks to a trans-dimensional portal." 

"So they're not Autobots or Decepticons, Jazz?" This human sounds like a leader. 

"Optimus altered th' agreement to include 'em. The blue one's Gipsy an Ah think th' silver is Striker." Jazz admits to the group. "Gipsy!" She nods, strolling over to them with Striker in tow. Neither of them is letting the other out of their sight for a while, not after Pitfall. "This is th' NEST team that fought with the Autobots in Mission City. Prowl's pullin' together a briefin' so you're all caught up." 

"That's kind of him." She settles on her pedes the way Mako and Stacker use to before Raleigh's sprawling nature kicks in to leave her more relaxed. "Do any of you have questions? I'm sure I would if something new showed up on my doorstep." 

"Don't shy away from it. We were built t' protect humans... Plus we had a few we were rather fond of ourselves." Striker leans against Gipsy so the first question, inevitably, is—

"Are you together?" This one comes from the human that looks like Raleigh's old Drivesuit tech. "Retired Master Sergeant Epps." 

"No. Our pilots were good friends who had a falling-out and they were like this a lot." She answers with a quiet laugh. "Striker's taking the next one." 

"How well would you do in a fight?" The British accent has both of them whipping their helms at the third human of the group. "Retired SAS Segeant Graham." 

"Depends on what, I guess. Kaiju're nasty buggers an' they cheat so we gotta fight pretty dirty." Striker flicks up a holographic display of Mutavore, watching as the human necks almost crack trying to look up that far. "Broke through a Wall in thirty seconds flat. I had t' pull out my blades and my K-Stunners. So, really, answer's I don't know." Striker turns off the projection and watches as the humans look at each other. "B'fore ye ask, we were the equivalent height of them. Gips here was 260 feet an' I was 254." 

"So you... shrunk?" The leader, the one Gipsy zeroed in on right away, speaks up. 

"Essentially. It's weird being like this. We're going to the range tommorrow to test everything out if you want to join us?" Gipsy offers and the humans glance at one another with nods of agreement. 

"I heard you fixed Bumblebee," the one that smells purely like Autobots says. Gipsy leans down to look him in the eyes. "Thank you." 

"I did and you're welcome. You are?" She asks softly. 

"Sam, Sam Witwicky. Bumblebee's my Guardian. He was the first one down on earth and my best friend. So, seriously, thanks." He grins at her and she returns it before levering herself back up to nudge Striker back into place. They answer questions from more than retired and new NEST members as the day goes on, Gipsy spotting the others listening in as they continue until the sunset.

* * *

She wakes up screaming, clutching at her left arm as Yancy falls from her Conn-pod. It segues into Raleigh not being able to breathe and she sobs, strong arms coming up to cradle her close. Striker starts purring and doesn't stop, her soft hiccups almost drowned by the noise as tears streak down her faceplates.

"You think Knifehead got him in one strike?" She asks with her voice cracking. "Or did my poor right suffer?" 

"One strike, Gips. I promise." Striker murmurs as he presses a kiss above her visor. "Not even the world would be so cruel as to deny your right a chance at a simple death." 

"Okay," she feels shakey, drawn out and so much like her former left that she sobs again. 

"Shh, shh, it's alright." Striker rocks them back and forth as she calms down. "Better?" 

Gipsy sniffles and Striker offers her the clean cloth from the polish incident. She wipes her face off and then notices Striker's own tears. "Oh." Gipsy carefully wipes around the visor, not sure if they even have optics like the Autobots and the Decepticons. "Can I?" 

"Yeah," she lifts up the visor to see the robotic version of Chuck staring back at her with golden optics blinking. "Well?" 

"Gold. Like our visors. You look like Chuck." She says with a weak smile. She closes it and Striker visibly relaxes. 

"C'n I?" The question is one she also nods yes to, blinking up at Striker and understanding why he needs the visor. Everything's too sharp, too detailed and she sighs as he closes it. "You too?"

"It's like Jaeger sight is a mix of human and Autobot." she replies, waiting for his assessment of her looks. 

"... Look like a mixture of 'em. Mostly Mako with a hint of Rahleigh in the jawline 'n brows." Striker mutters with a slightly rebellious tone when it comes to her right pilot. 

"Thanks." Gipsy gives a watery chuckle as she tugs them down again into the berth. "Back to recharge, 'mkay? Don't stay up too long." Gipsy falls back into a dreamless recharge while Striker watches over her a little longer as if to chase the nightmares away.

* * *

Prowl's briefing is informative if somewhat text-heavy. It's a good thing thier pilots were used to reading mission briefs and after-action reports. 

They still haven't told anyone why they don't let one another out of their sight. Rachet seems to have noticed but he hasn't pulled them aside to ask. 

The range is run by an Autobot and a familiar Decepticon. 

"I'm Ironhide and you already know Barricade. We're here to test out your weaponry, see if you can hold your own." Gipsy and Striker nudge one another while sharing the Academy Instructor over the link. 

**Sounds just like him.** she snickers as she stretches everything out. Striker does the same, the two other bots eyeing their stances with confusion. 

_They don't get it._

**I hope they don't until they're on their back-struts heaving in air.** Gipsy counters with a mischievous smile as they finish limbering up. "Servo-to-servo or weaponry first, Ironhide?" 

"Weaponry." comes the dry response. 

Gipsy flexes her wrists and the chain swords form within seconds as Striker's Sting-Blades with the cauterizing edges come down with a sharp — _ **CLANG!**_ — and a whine that indicates the blades are active. Both Striker and Gipsy share a glance as the weapons are inspected via scan. 

"GD6 Chain Swords, forged during the last days of our War and folded two thousand times in the tradition of the Japanese swordsmith. Steel obsidian alloy," Gipsy offers as Barricade tests the pad of his thumb against the edge. It splits the padding effortlessly, having already cut through thickly reinforced bone and skull in the short time they've been used. 

"Assault Mounted 3.25 Sting-Blades," Striker explains. "Hot enough to cauterize the flesh of anything and cut through solid bone, like Gipsy's Chain Swords." 

A flick of both thier wrists and the blades disappear back into thier storage spaces. Gipsy activates just one of the Plasmacasters, her left one at that. Striker hums softly before opening his chest plates to reveal the Anti-Kaiju Missile Launcher. 

"I-19 Plasmacaster. Particle dispersal cannon that fires several plasma shots and can cauterize what it comes into contact with anything." She powers it down and rubs at her forearm. "Hurts when I use it too much." 

"Th' WMB2x90 Anti-Kaiju Missile Launcher. It fires a total of eighteen shots an' burrows inta its target b'fore exploding fer maximum impact." Striker picks up where she left off, "Most of our weapons were designed to cause minimum damage to our surrounding environment an' to protect the humans we were fightin' for. The Kaiju we faced were like poison to Earth's atmosphere so we had to keep the contaminants down to as little as possible for the clean-up crews." 

He puts it away, rubbing at his chest plates briefly before they wait for Ironhide and Barricade's assessment. 

"I'll be doing the servo-to-servo." Barricade steps forward and motions for Gipsy first. He moves, she moves and—The ground shudders as Barricade's back struts meet it. Gipsy dances back and offers a servo to help him up. He tugs down and she lifts him up, spinning him into an arm-bar while crushing him against her chest in a vice grip. "I take it this has something to do with your shared look earlier?" 

"Our pilots were well-trained martial artists. You had to be fit to fight in us." Gipsy murmurs as she releases Barricade and watches Striker's match with Ironhide. Striker practically floats out of the way of Ironhide's lunges and then Ironhide changes tactics. 

Gipsy moves forward to prevent it when Barricade shakes his head. Ironhide sweeps out a leg and knocks Striker back enough that he can move closer. Striker's battle-mask snaps foreward as his Sting-Blades release and he lets loose a warning hiss. She shakes off Barricade's touch, stepping in front of a confused Ironhide. "Striker, stand down." 

_Gipsy, outta my way._ Striker snarls over the link. 

**No. He's not a Kaiju, not an enemy. _Stand down_!** Gipsy growls back as she straightens her frame to its full height. The other bots and humans are watching in utter silence at their posturing. Striker wilts first, whining in the back of his throat as he presses his face into her chestplates. **There we go.**

"Was that...?" Barricade is the one to ask, red optics now looking them over with a healthy measure of respect. 

"Kaiju Battle mode. He would've ripped Ironhide apart, no matter how good a fighter he is. There's a reason Striker was the most successful Jaeger." Gipsy replies carefully as she pets Striker's quivering T-16 Angel Wings. "I probably should have warned you that it was better to fire our ranged weaponry." 

"Gips?" Striker lifts his face away and looks over to Ironhide, his pauldrons relaxing at seeing the Autobot in one piece. "You stepped in." 

"Mmm-hm."

* * *

**-Several Months After The Breach Closes-**

Gipsy and Striker figure out how Cade and Optimus can have a relationship; Holoforms. 

Rachet asks if he can build them each one. 

"It seems that you have most of the Neutral's systems so you should be adaptable to a Holoform," Rachet explains as he gestures to the seemingly harmless equipment. 

"Neutrals?" She asks as Striker picks at the bird crap that landed on him in his alt-form on an outing off-base. "Strike, go wash. Your picking's giving my processors an ache." 

_Sorry. Just nervous._ Prowl, Bumblebee and Bluestreak (a sweet, bubbly Autobot) offered to help Striker clean his T-16 Angel Wings. The Angel Wings have become too sensitive for Gipsy to touch and they've grown slightly to accommodate Striker's new frame type. 

**You'll be fine. The Autobots know what they're doing.** She presses her visor against his in a reassuring gesture. 

_But I don't._

**And that's okay, Strike. You tell me if you're uncomfortable.**

_I will._ It's the flutter in Gipsy's chestplates that confuses her when he gives her a soft smile before leaving. 

"Neutrals are neither faction and usually have green or gold optics to signify this. I didn't want to press earlier but..." 

"Gold. They're really sensitive though." She admits. 

"Like Jazz. One in three Cybertronians sparked have a different set of programs, allowing them to see for great distances but up close, the sight is disorienting and painfully detailed. Does Striker have it too?" Rachet makes a noise of understanding as he rattles off something that Gipsy finds herself relieved to hear. 

"Yes." 

"I can help you adjust it to where there isn't quite as much detail but you'll have to train with Jazz to use the ability," he adds as he pauses in his work. "May I see? Strictly in a medical sense, as I know Jazz isn't all too fond of optic exams himself. Only his Sparkmate usually sees them." 

"You'll have to dim the lights then." She waits until her HUD backlights kick on before opening her visor. Rachet hums softly as she blinks rapidly to control the dimmed output. 

"They're clear and I suppose you can see my faceplates down to the last detail." Rachet chuckles wryly as he uses a delicate instrument to do something with her optics. The details dull down enough that she can see like she can with her visor. "Better?" 

"Much." Gipsy's relieved. "I'll bring in Strike after he's done with the Autobots." 

"Excellent idea." 

It's, of all bots, Barricade who pulls her aside when she sighs halfway through re-checking a holo deck for the humans to use. 

"Something is different," Barricade says as softly as he can manage with his harsh voice. 

"I... I get this flutter in my chest when I look at Striker." Gipsy confesses with a servo pressed against her left chestplate. She and Barricade have become close friends, what with her hanging out with her other best friend Bumblebee. "It's recent." 

"I see." Barricade's brow furrows as he taps his chinplate. "Does it happen with any other 'bot or human on Base?" 

"No." That much she knows. "No one else." 

"Hmm. Still sharing the same berth?" He questions and Gipsy gets the feeling that he's narrowing down whatever it is. 

"Yes. Our War left us with nightmares that only the other understands..." She replies carefully. 

"Ah. Well, there isn't a cure for them. You just have to hope they're returned." Barricade murmurs with a shrug. 

"Wha—no. Nonononono. I can't." Gipsy backs up, shaking her helm and then stops, her pauldrons dropping. "I can and I am." 

"Your Striker does not seem... unreasonable." Barricade offers. "Talk to him." 

"Tonight." Striker sends her an echo of her determination, a wordless question attatched to it. 

**We have things to talk about when you get back from your wing thing.** Gipsy says. She's like Raleigh in that regard; straight-foreward and honest in addressing her feelings. 

_Wing thing, huh? I like that._ Striker sends a visual of Prowl grooming his longer Angel Wings with a deft and gently touch. _Need to get you a pair of static gloves so you can help me with these._

**Sure.** she sends an image of Rachet working away on their Holoforms. **They look good.**

* * *

By the time Striker gets back, he's much more relaxed and flexing his Angel Wings carefully. 

"Gips! M'wings are more sensitive because they're like an extra set of limbs. Prowl and 'Bee think they'll get bigger an' that I need a fluffy berth for them." Striker rattles off before pausing to look at her. "Gipsy? You alright?" 

"We gotta talk, Strike." She says and his demeanor changes instantly. 

"What about?" He moves closer and looks up with a concerned expression. 

"You might wanna sit down for this." She pats the berth and Striker sits with a thump. "I... Oh for cripes sake—I like you." Gipsy growls to herself before charging full ahead like her Becket boys. "I mean I really, really like you." 

Striker blinks behind his visor and he cocks his head to the side. Oh no. She's overstepped, time to—"Was that it?" 

"Yes?" She can't help the uptick at the end of her voice, confused as she is. 

"Gipsy, Gipsy, Gipsy, ye overthink everything, just like Mako." Striker taps two digits to her visor and clucks his glossa. "I like you back." 

"You do?" Gipsy blurts when Striker cups her faceplates, gently raising her visor and his as he kisses her as slowly and softly as he can. "Really?" 

"Yeah." Striker nuzzles her visor gently and quietly purrs. "Really, really."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


End file.
